The Hunter and the Time Keeper
by PoisonedAngelous
Summary: 100 Theme Challenge, Sam x Miranda, Miranda is accidentally thrown into the Supernatural 'verse thanks to a witch's spell. Now, Sam and Dean have to find a way to send her back, but will she want to go back?
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

"Come to us, Keeper of Time!" The witches finished chanting, causing Dean to swear loudly from where he was tied to a chair, back to back with Sam. The other Hunter was still out-cold, his wrist staining the cloth of his shirt red from where the witches had bled him for their ritual. Dean hated witches and he had a feeling he was going to hate whatever the hell was coming too.

The room began to shake violently as the spell began to take affect. Dean squirmed against the ropes that bound him to the chair, quietly celebrating his success at freeing himself. The witches were too busy focusing on the spell to notice him untying the rest of his bonds. He reached over and slapped Sam awake, undoing the leather straps.

Suddenly, a blinding light filled the room. Sam grunted and used his free hand to cover his eyes while Dean tried his best to undue what was left of the restraints. Suddenly, all seven of the witches began to screaming, blood curdling noises that threatened to burst Dean's eardrums.

Suddenly the screams ceased, and the light vanished. Sam pressed his hand to his bleeding wrist and stood up, steadying himself on Dean's shoulder. "What the hell?" The older grumbled, deeply confused. All seven witches lay dead on the ground, but there was an eighth woman that hadn't been there before, lying unconscious in the center of the summoning circle.

"Well, shit." Now what do they do? The brothers looked at each other. Well, the witches were out of the way, what was that new woman?

-01100-

Miranda stirred, her head pounding. She groaned, every inch on her body aching. Ugh. What happened? She scanned her memories, she had been on a mission with the Thirds when the Noah attacked and the Thirds began to mutate. Then, there was this bright light.

"I don't get it." Said a voice, deep and most definitely male. "Nothings works! Salt, silver, holy water, iron . . . What the hell?"

"Maybe she's human?" Suggested a softer voice, still male but not as deep as the first.

"But then how the hell did she just pop up?"

Miranda's neck ached. She could stand being still any longer. She peeled her eyes open, blinking slowly. It felt like grains of sand were stuck in her eyelids. "She's waking up," The second voice observed. Miranda slowly raised her head at the prompt, wincing as she popped her neck. Why was she sitting upright? A flex of her wrists told her they were bound behind her.

Miranda glanced up, her vision clearing. Two men stood before her, one of them startlingly tall. He was also holding a knife.

Miranda promptly screamed. The two men flinched at the shrill shriek bounding off of the walls. "I've been kidnapped!" A thousand scenarios played through her head, each one bloodier and more terrifying than the last. "I'm gonna die!"

"Woah, woah, woah, calm down." Sam intervened, wisely gesturing for Dean to put the knife down. The woman stopped shrieking for a moment, but the instant Sam touched her shoulder, it began again. "We're not gonna kill you, I promise." Sam said over her shrill screaming, but it was drowned out by her loud pleads for help. Dean rolled his eyes, and slapped his hand over her mouth, effectively shutting her up.

Cue Bitch Face and a cheeky grin in response.

"Okay, calm down." Sam said soothingly, kicking up the 'You-can-totally-trust-me' charm up to maximum. "I'm Sam, and this is my brother Dean. We're not gonna kill you. This is all one big misunderstanding, okay?" The woman nodded, her black-rimmed eyes wide and tear-stained. Dean wondered how she could cry and not smear her makeup like that.

"I'm gonna let go of you, okay? But no more screaming." Said Dean, who removed his hand at her nod. The woman sniffled, but didn't scream.

"Good! Now then, what's your name?" Same prompted.

"M-Miranda," The woman sniffled, "Miranda L-Lotto."

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><p>Tah-dah! And there you have it! The first chapter of my D Gray Man Supernatural crossover. :D For teh record, this is totally gonna be a SamxMiranda. Why? Because me and my friend believe they are simply meant to be together. :D<p>

Please click the little link down there and leave a review!


	2. Complicated

**2. Complicated**

Miranda sipped at her coffee, sitting in a chair that was much more comfortable then the last one she was in. Her wrists ached a little bit, but at least she wasn't tied up anymore. She glanced up shyly from the rim of her mug at the older man who was sitting at the desk. He looked exasperated. "So, let me get this straight." The man grumbled, "You're from the 1800s," Miranda nodded, "And you're an exorcist," another nod, and the woman wisely moved the mug down before she sloshed coffee all over herself. "Except you don't exorcise _real _demons, just these akuma things?"

"Y-Yes, that's about it." Miranda took another sip of her coffee.

"So, how did you become an exorcist?" Sam asked her, curiosity leaking through the 'you can trust me' face. Miranda gazed into her coffee.

"I-It's complicated." Her palms gave a little ache at the memory of how she had obtained her Innocence. It was hard to believe it was so long ago. She glanced up, "How did you become Hunters?"

"It's complicated," Dean answered, his arms crossed and eyes full of suspicion. He still wasn't buying the story that she had given them, even though it was truth.

Miranda's gaze shifted from the handsome hunter back to her coffee. She felt like an outsider, in every sense she was. It reminded her painfully of the first few days as an exorcist. It both sent her into nostalgia and gave her a breath stealing sense of fear. What was she going to do? What if she couldn't get back? Her friends needed her! Before she knew it, it was all she could think about. She had failed her hundred and first job. She always knew it would happen eventually. She always ended up failing. Sure, this time it had taken longer than usual, but sure enough, she failed it.

The woman jumped as a warm hand suddenly rested on her shoulder. She looked up and into the worried eyes of one Sam Winchester. "Are you okay, Miranda?" He asked kindly, even though she was quite sure he didn't genuinely care. She quickly realized that both Bobby and Dean were also staring at her.

"S-Sorry," She apologized, "But I'd really like to get home as soon possible. My friends need me." Miranda was trying her best not to cry.

Bobby nodded, briefly taking off his ball cap to scratch at his half-bald scalp. "Well, it was some heavy mojo that brought you here. It'll take some time for me to scrounge up a way to reverse it." Miranda nodded, feeling rather disappointed that it would be some time before she could go home. Bobby seemed to notice the on-setting depression. "Why don't you go upstairs and take a shower? Get some sleep. Me and the boys will start researching. I think some of my wife's old clothes will fit you."

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><p>Here we are, the second chapter! :D The next one's gonna a little tough. . I'm going to try and crank out one of these every day, if not two a day! for the record, Supernatural-wise, this story is set somewhere in the second season, probably early to mid. In The -Man timeline, it's in the middle of the Alma Arc, 195-196 ish.<p>

Also, I really can't write Dean. D: I guess I'm not awesome enough?

Thank you, **Hakumei-chan**, for reviewing! :D It totally made my day! And I've been waiting for someone to write a Super/Gray man crossover forever! In the end, I decided I might as well take a crack at it!

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave behind a review! :D


	3. Making History

**3. Making History**

Miranda was carefully examining Time Record for any nicks or scratches. She had to be really careful with it now, seeing as how there was no Komui to fix it if it got broken somehow. Dean was watching her from a chair, a thick tome propped up on his crossed legs. He wondered what the hell was so important about an old, strange looking record. He bet it didn't even play, and if it did, it played some old, crappy music.

Dean reached down and picked up his beer, slurping up the alcohol. He was in a bad mood thanks to the whole witch fiasco. He could be out there fixing his baby and not in here researching on how to get some chick back to her home world. How did they know she wasn't some demon? She could be tricking all of them, but her teary-eyed façade had somehow charmed both Sam and Bobby.

"Shit!" In the midst of his thoughts, the beer can had slipped from his grip and sloshed right on the book he was reading. He titled it, letting the beer drip to the floor, but it brought a cascade of ink with it. Dean cursed, berating himself for letting this happen. Bobby was going to kill him.

"Invocate, Innocence," Dean watched, open mouthed, as the beer and smeared ink suddenly began to retract, leaving the book the exact same as it had been before. The hunter looked up at Miranda, eyeing the record that glowed faintly and spun in the space between her hands.

"How?" He asked. Miranda smiled shyly.

"It's my innocence, Time Record. With it, I can return something to it's original state, but once I stop, the time will return." Dean looked down at the book, noticing that the pages were slowly becoming whiter, the ink darker, and the ancient leather binding was regaining its luster. Even the thin gold leafing was beginning to shine again.

"Th-this is why I need to go back," Miranda said, remembering once again why she was here, "My friends, my fellow exorcists need me." Dean could understand why she was so eager to go back home now. If she could do this to a book, what could she do to a human?

* * *

><p>Arrrgh, I had no idea what I was doing here. . No Sam this time, but there will be Jo, Ellen, and Ash next time! :D<p>

Thank you, **Hakumei-chan, **for reviewing again! XD yeah, the Alma Arc was kind of obvious, but I know that some people haven't read the manga.

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a review!


	4. Rivalry

4. Rivalry

"I'll give you fifty bucks to get her drunk and get some information out of her." Dean bribed Jo as they watched Miranda fumble with the pool table. Sam was talking with Ash, getting updates on the Yellow-Eyed Demon's movements. Jo considers this for a moment, Dean's still paranoid, but she understands this. A woman who pops up after being summoned by a circle of witches is definitely suspicious.

Five minutes later, Jo and Miranda were sitting across from each other with rows of shot glass. Ten minutes after that, Miranda is sobbing incoherently about her former teammate and how they either must be dead or have moved on without her into Sam's shoulder, the bitch face on full power. "Dean." Sam growls.

"What?" Says the other Winchester innocently, "I wasn't me that got her drunk." Jo looked a little amused and guilty.

"He paid me." She defended herself.

A/N: Hey, guys! Super short drabble update. Uh, I'm sorry I'm late? *bad pokerface* I kinda got schwooped into another fandom, and then I lent my Supernatural Season 2 out, and I still haven't gotten it back, so, uh. Updates are coming! Soon. . . Eventually. . . Probably. Yeah. -is shot-


	5. Unbreakable

5. Unbreakable

It's some time before Miranda is sober again, and when she finally is, Jo took her to where she and her mother lived and gave her some old clothes. Her exorcist uniform is anything but ordinary, after all. As Miranda, blushing at the indecency of modern wear, tries on clothes, Jo examines Time Record with interest. Ash had been trying his damn best to get a hold of it earlier, but Miranda is quite adamant about not letting it out of her sights. Even now, she is casting wary glances over her shoulder.

"Um, Jo, d-do you have any gloves I can borrow?" Miranda asks after she has donned a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Her boots will do well enough, but her gloves go all the way up to her bicep and are uncomfortable beneath the T-Shirt. Jo looks up the Time Record and is about to reply with an affirmative when she catches a glimpse of her hands.

Miranda follows her gaze and hides her hands away in shame. The other girl places Time Record down and gently takes Miranda's hand in hers, turning them over so she can see the wounds more clearly. They're deep, run straight through and were held open for quite some time, judging from the scars. They healed well, for such large injuries, but the dark color shows that they were not healed with modern knowledge. She glances up, and asks, "How did you get these?"

Miranda smiles the world's most strained smile, fighting back the shudder at the memory of shrill laughter and candy and blood and candles.

"You could say they came from my first hunt." Miranda's slides her hands from Jo's as calmly as she could and clasped them to her chest. The strain lessens and there is a hint of tenderness in Miranda's eyes, the same look Ellen gets when she talks about William. "It was also the first time anyone ever told me "thank you." There is something else in her eyes, Jo recognizes it, someone precious that Miranda had protected, but wasn't willing to speak about.

It is then that Jo realizes that this woman, this slender, shy, stuttering, stumbling woman, isn't as fragile as she seems.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey guys! Sorry its been a while! Good news! I've finally gotten my Season 2 back, so expect more updates soon. ^_^ No Sam in this, but it has Jo!**

**I miss her. D: On a side note, as anyone else noticed that the bartender/vampire Eli from Bloodlust is also Benny?**


	6. Obsession

6. Obsession

Miranda was fairly familiar was obsessions. She, and the entirety of the science division, had a love for coffee that could very easily be categorized as an obsession (She could make it fairly well as well, judging from the adoring look Bobby, and the science division, and Dean, though he most certainly wouldn't admit it, had given her anytime she approached with a fresh pot). Allen counted and recounted his money at the beginning and end of each day, Krory could heard reciting love poetry in the dead of night, Lavi had his books, Link had his sweets (and Allen), Dean had the Impala (he was more than happy to show her everything about it, boasting with a large, proud grin and a glow of happiness that nearly blinded her), Sam had his research and a tiny, tiny picture of a blonde woman hidden away in his wallet.

But the obsession that gleamed in this man's dark eyes was one that frightened her. "Miranda, was it?" The man's voice was slippery with it, hidden beneath normalcy. "You're pretty lucky, getting' taught by the Winchesters. Pretty soon, you'll be the best of the best, huh?"

The bar is dingy, the man's eyes keep sweeping across her body in a way that makes her want to be sick, and Jo's clothes feel far, far too tight for comfort. There is a speck of blood on Dean's chin that he forgot to wipe away and she is still reeling from the merciless and bloody killing of a seemingly normal human. Akuma she can understand, but an enemy that still looks human even after its dead sends chills down her spine and bile up her throat. The alcohol burns as she tosses it down, Dean cocking his head in the way that shows he is impressed when she swallows the rot-gut whiskey in one smooth drink. She makes a non-committal noise and tries not to choke on the aftertaste. For once, her nights of mourning over herself have paid off.

"You both could learn a thing or two from this guy," Dean says and gestures to the man, Gordon was his name, right? Sam glances between his brother and the man, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down." Sam says as he stands, and Miranda is all too willing to follow, "I'm just gonna go back to the motel."

"I'll go, too." Miranda quickly says, and beats the much taller hunter out the door. Once outside, she shivers in disgust and is so, so very glad to be away from Gordon and the lust for blood that hangs around him like a thick cloud. Sick, she thinks, he's sick.

Miranda slides into the Impala awkwardly, jumping when it roars to life as Sam starts it. She can't fight back the amazement as the car glides through the night and back to the hotel. Komulin was amazing, she thinks, but it had nothing on the sleek, black artwork that is the Impala. The ride was so much smoother than a carriage and the premature cars that existed in her world, and it has a tiny record player! Granted, she wasn't allowed to play with it nearly as much as she wanted to, even when Sam was driving.

It was like Dean _knew_ someone had messed with his baby.

When they get back to the motel, Sam has a suspicious look on his face. Noticing Miranda's concerned expression, he gives her a thin smile. "Sorry you had to see that." He apologizes, and she wondered if he means having to see Gordon or having to see Dean take a buzzsaw to a man's neck.

"I-It's fine." It's not. "Death is something that-that I'm used to seeing." He nods, but he can't help but feel the doubt creep up inside him. What if she was just a demon in disguise, or some kind of obscure, pagan god? But at the same time, he pities her, a poor woman dragged from her home and unable to get back. For a moment, he wonders what its like to have a home.

"I'm going to make a call real quick, do you mind getting a few sodas out of the machine?" He digs a few coins out of his pocket and hands them to her. Miranda takes them with a small smile, eager to operate another of the strange machines of this time. The coins are strange too, and she wonders for a moment who's face is emblazoned on the silver as she approaches the soda machine.

The coins slide in with ease, but Miranda pauses just before pushing one of the buttons in. A sense of unease slithers up her neck, and reminds herself not to show any reaction. There is no cross on her chest, and there are no Akuma, but there are still things that would very much like to kill her. She presses a button and a soda clunks out noisily. She gets another one with careful nonchalance and forced the urge to run back to the room down.

The room is too quiet when she opens the door, but she relaxes a little when the door closes anyway. Sam is nowhere to be found, but the bathroom door is shut, so she assumes he's inside. Miranda breathes a soft sigh of relief.

"I didn't know what you wanted," She calls out, because she knows the motel walls are thinner than the pages of some of Lavi's books, "So I just got – waaah!" The scream slips out high and loud as a pair of arms throw themselves over her shoulders. Her elbow, while petite, is also quite sharp and though Miranda really is quite a small woman, she is quite strong. She did carry a grandfather clock on her back, after all. Her assailant goes down with a startled groan as her elbow slams into his temple.

Another man appears from one the many crannies of the hotel room, hesitating for just a moment upon seeing his opponent. Miranda took this opportunity to heave the soda can at his face and make a dive for her duffel, and sweet Time Record and its impenetrable barrier. The soda can is batted out of the way like a fly, and Miranda is jerked back by her neck before her fingers can even begin to unzip the bag. The last thing she remembered before the darkness consumed her vision is the edge of the side table heading for her forehead.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey guys! Sorry its been so long! I've been working on my original story, and its been kind of consuming my brain. As an apology, please enjoy this extra long chapter! After this, I plan to start skipping around on the word prompts, because after a quick skim-through, I realized that my ideas for some prompts are coming up waaaay too early. <strong>

**Thank you everyone for your reviews! It's really great to see that there are people who actually read this. *bows* Again, many apologies for my lack of updating schedule!**


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